Wiffy Discipline
by Giles C
Summary: Willow and Buffy find themselves alone in the school library, and some mature hijinks ensue. WARNING: This is PWP, and quite shamelessly so. I'm afraid I can't see enough legitimacy in this site to offer anything more - no offense intended, of course.
1. Chapter 1

The halls of Sunnydale High were emptying suddenly, decisively, right at the ring of the bill, at 1:15 on a Friday afternoon. Willow, wearing a blue T-shirt and a short denim skirt, poked her head out from the library; she looked left, right, left again. When the last hurried student squeaked away into another corner of the school, she decided the moment was right. She ducked in, pulled the "FILING—Do Not Disturb" sign out, and set it down just outside the threshold. After checking again that no one had seen her unusual efforts, she stole back inside and breathed a sigh of relief. Freedom!

With Giles off at a faculty meeting, Xander sick at home, and the Buffster on one of her patrols, Willow had this whole place to herself, and she was going to have some fun with it. If anyone had noticed she was still around, or had seen her set out the Filing sign without Giles or any teacher around, they'd have probably scolded her, locked the door, and sent her back to study hall. But no one knew she was here. There was a kind of fresh, grinning excitement that the big, warm, comfy room had now. Willow felt that excitement when she walked inside and spun around in the central area, just smiling up at the quiet emptiness.

But after a moment, as quick as she could, she grabbed her book bag and darted up the steps toward the dark and cozy bookshelves in the rear.

Willow found one of the plush library chairs in the very back, tucked into a small, self-contained little corner. She sat down and unzipped the bag next to her. Inside were her books and folders and notebooks like normal, but in a special compartment she'd packed something for today, as soon as she knew she'd have some alone time: a copy of Maxim, which she'd stolen from Xander's room the week before, and a small pink vibrator. She looked up again, to make sure no one was in the library, and pulled them out of the bag.

On the cover of the magazine was a brunette girl smiling, leaning forward, her breasts just barely contained in a green swimsuit top. Her eyes were dazzling and happy, and her skin had that perfect, pure, delicious quality that models' skin often has. The lips that curved around those sweet, brilliant-white teeth were thin and pink, and Willow thought immediately how good it would be to feel those lips on her own lips, or on her tummy or her breasts, or on the lips of her vagina. And she could just lean back and let her hair down, spread apart her legs, and let this Maxim girl use her mouth for some good.

With her muscles already tensing and her pussy growing moist, Willow was surprised by how quickly she was moving toward sexual ecstasy. Without even opening the magazine! (And with what excited terror she'd been expecting to find a stain of Xander's on one of the pages—disgusting that there could be such a private bit of nastiness there, and sexy that they might share their separate little liquid marks over the same picture)! She fumbled to put everything in its place. She opened the Maxim and set it on the table next to her, not really caring which of the pictures was there. Willow set the vibrator back into her bag momentarily and stood up. She hiked her skirt up, felt for the waistband of her tiny black panties, and pulled the panties down to her knees. When she sat back down, keeping her skirt up, she put her bare bottom on the very edge of the seat. She grabbed her vibrator again and leaned far back. There it was: the image on the magazine cover, the girl with those cute eyes and teeth and lips, the luscious breasts.

She felt up her thighs, massaging the area around her vagina, and found she was even wetter than she'd thought. And her pussy was trembling and huge, and she could tell already that this had to be one of the best times masturbating that she would have recently. Willow turned on the vibrator, lowered it between her legs, and carefully pushed it up inside her. Oh my God! She sucked a breath of surprise and pleasure into her mouth,

Joy! It was pure joy! To do this at all, this glorious rite of flesh and movement, and to do it in such an exciting, forbidden place! She imagined the girl bending every which way, every edge of her naked body glistening in the light, every corner of her given some attention from eyes or fingertips or tongues. At first, the Maxim girl would get some of those caresses or kisses from someone else, and she'd giggle and moan and sway her body with pleasure; and then she would touch and lick in return, and it was Willow herself who was lying down and moaning with the Maxim girl on top of her... In and out, in and out the vibrator pulsed. She paused, slid it in slowly, luxuriously. And then, as she pulled it out, she squeezed her eyes shut and let her neck relax.

But her head bumped into something. Soft, like cotton. Willow could feel, even in that instant, the tiny rise and fall of a person's breath. Her eyes shot open, and she saw the upside-down figure of Buffy wearing a tight black shirt and green tennis shorts, arms crossed in front of her chest, lips pursed in delicate fury.

"Having fun?" Buffy asked, the pursed lips giving way to a sarcastic grin and her hands moving to her hips.


	2. Chapter 2

Willow murmured, "Um." She stayed rigid and stock-still, looking at Buffy's body right above her face, right behind her chair, wondering how she got so close to her without making a sound. The stealth of Slayers! How could she get out of this mess—my God. Willow suddenly burst into a flurry of activity, all the while mumbling some stupid explanation: throwing the vibrator toward her bag ("Just t-took a break—"), swiping the magazine off the table ("—from res-s-search—"), straightening her shirt ("—to take a nap."), turning her body over to stand up—

"Stop." Buffy's hand snapped out and pressed on Willow's back, underneath her shoulder blades, and caught her lying face-down on the chair. "This is just where I need you." Buffy tugged at the back of Willow's shirt with her fingertip, until she'd revealed both cheeks of her tight bottom.

Willow tried to push herself up from the chair. "Buffy, um, I'm sorry, I didn't think, um." She pulled an arm out from underneath herself but still couldn't find the strength to overpower Buffy at all. She squirmed with the other arm and tried to pull it free. With her head raised, Willow had her face right against Buffy's midriff. She felt the warmth her body gave off, smelled the delightful hint of perfume underneath her sweat, and saw the edge of the beautiful white panties pushed up from Buffy's shorts and the creamy-white thighs below them. Willow found her own position right at the moment to be exhilarating and sexy, but still she pushed and struggled and attempted to roll away. "How are you even, um, here yet? You're on p-patrol."

Buffy smiled at Willow and rolled her eyes. "There aren't vampires out there all the time." She looked down again as she cleared her throat. "And it's a good thing I came back, or you'd have been a very bad girl right here at school! And maybe that's worse than vampires." She changed hands and pushed down even harder on Willow's back, while stepping around to the side of the chair. She reeled her hand back and brought it down in a tremendous slap on Willow's bottom.

She squealed in shock. "Ow! Buffy!" Pure surprise more than anything. "Let me go!" she screamed again. "What are you doing?"

Willow heard Buffy's footfalls as she adjusted her standing position, and Willow saw the shadows change as Buffy leaned closer toward her. "You've been a very, very bad girl," Buffy whispered in Willow's ear, "and now you're going to get a spanking."

"No, no, no, no!" Willow cried in a soft voice under her breath, even as (realizing the full extent of her situation) her vagina grew wetter and fuller, and her hips bucked pleasantly against the edge of the chair cushion. Buffy started spanking her in quick, regular intervals—first four, and then two, and then three, and then four again. Willow was gasping after each one, crying for Buffy to stop and let her go, but her excitement and pleasure were blooming as the sharp pain from Buffy's palm spread across her bottom. The chair rocked a little on its legs, while Willow kicked out wildly and thrashed her upper body against Buffy's hold.

Then, Buffy scolded Willow in syncopated rhythm with the spanking: "You're a very (spank), very (spank), naughty (spank), naughty little (spank) girl!" Buffy suddenly paused and admired her friend's body: the way Willow's slim frame was bent against the chair; the way she was pushing up against her, trying to roll over, her breasts pulled up in her T-shirt like two modest and beautiful packages; and the way her cute bottom was coloring all perky and pink. Willow's skirt was hiked up, almost inside-out, and it perfectly framed the straight little crack between her cheeks. She turned her head, surprised and grateful for the break from Buffy's punishment.

Willow's expression was tear-stained and ashamed, but underneath was the first hint of a shy grin. Around hiccuping sobs, she managed to squeak out an annoyed "What?" that prompted Buffy to immediately lay down several more spanks.

"I was just letting you have a teensy rest, but I guess you need some more right away." The tight pink flesh was growing a pinker, rosier hue with each slap. "I think I need to sit down," Buffy said, sounding slightly breathless from delivering so many quick, harsh, spirited spanks to Willow's bottom. With that, she grabbed both of Willow's legs at the bare thighs and pulled her up off the seat; Buffy squeezed in and sat down, spinning the legs around effortlessly and laying them across her lap. The naked skin of that lap felt wonderful on Willow's tummy and the front of her thighs. "Now," Buffy said, resting both of her arms on Willow's back, and then gathering up the skirt and T-shirt that had fallen in the way, "we can get down to business."


	3. Chapter 3

Finally, Willow was where she'd always dreamed of being: across the bare lap of the stern and gorgeous Buffster, in a private corner of her favorite place in this mysterious and scary high school, getting the harsh and sexy discipline that she knew she needed. Each time Buffy's hand slapped against her bottom and warmed her skin even more, Willow gulped another breath and felt pain (and then pleasure) roll all the way through her body. She continually whimpered, "No, no, let me go, no," but found that Buffy only tightened her grip and strengthened her spanks after these words. Her back stiffened, muscles everywhere quaking and thumping with excitement. Her dripping pussy shivered between her legs as she ground against Buffy's thighs, at first only coincidentally but later in an absolute, unrelenting thirst for orgasm.

Buffy stopped. "Will, what are you doing?"

With no more spanking, the grinding was obvious. Even without the ear-to-ear grin on her face or the erotic shrieks and sighs coming from her mouth, it was easy to see that Willow was enjoying the discipline. She was pushing herself orgasmically against Buffy's legs.

"What do you think you're doing, Willow Rosenberg?" Buffy quickly snatched up her friend by the back of her shirt, stood up from the chair, and dumped the giggling, red-bottomed girl onto the floor.

"It just f-felt a little good."

Buffy frowned and twisted her mouth up, preparing to chide Willow for such a naughty thing. But instead she bent over, grabbed Willow around the torso (feeling her plump breasts against her forearm), and made her kneel there on the floor. Then, she pulled her hand back and began spanking again, this time harder, and with nothing for Willow to pleasure herself against. She howled now, and strained her body against Buffy more intensely. The wild clap of Buffy's palm against Willow's bottom rang out in the empty library, paired with the hum of the school's air conditioner. Grunts and shuffling clothing followed the chorus of sharp spanks. Willow struggled with both arms to reach her pussy and relieve her now monumental need for orgasm, but Buffy kept her in a locked position. Liquid dripped down the inside of her thigh.

Buffy paused and, for a moment, played with the hem of her friend's skirt. "I think we need to take these clothes all the way off of you, Will." And with that, she pulled her down onto the floor and effortlessly turned her over onto her back. Willow's clothes-the few pieces of them that she still wore-were mussed by sweat or struggle. She reflexively (and rather daintily) pulled her legs up toward herself when turned over, and tried as much as she could to conceal her bare parts. Buffy grabbed the raised legs and pulled from Willow's ankles her panties, which she balled up and tossed away. In one great motion, she grabbed both sides of the denim skirt and yanked it upward, along Willow's slender legs and toward her feet, completely off. She was now naked but for the small blue T-shirt, and the tenderness and beauty of her flesh made Buffy hesitate, reverently, for just a millisecond.

Willow sat meekly on the carpeted floor, with Buffy standing over and bending to her ministrations. This moment was humiliating and revitalizing for the both of them. Buffy instructed her, "Raise your arms," and she did, whereupon her shirt was pulled up over her face and thrown toward the pile where her other clothes sat.

Kneeling down slightly, Buffy was at a level to grab Willow's head and pull it against her chest, allowing her access to the clasp on Willow's bra. While Buffy worked at her back, Willow savored the opportunity to be pressed against her breasts, sweet-smelling and warm and comforting. The cotton of Buffy's shirt rubbed against her cheek thoughtfully. She shut her eyes tightly and tried to enjoy the moment.

But Buffy finished and roughly pulled the bra out through Willow's arms. Then, she gently but firmly pushed Willow back down. Completely naked now, her shame didn't change a bit: her legs again pulled up toward her body, and she blushed, shrinking into herself. Now, her sweet and creamy flesh was pure, completely uncovered, unobstructed, completely present, and it made Buffy a little weak in the knees. Willow looked up at her with big teary eyes, arms hiding her breasts, legs and feet hiding her vagina, her bottom the only place she had to leave exposed.


	4. Chapter 4

"Now, Will," Buffy began, crossing her arms and glaring at her friend from the height of her kneeling position, "hold your legs up like this-" She took Willow's hands in her own and pressed them on the back of her legs, so Willow's bottom was raised, ready for punishment, and so both her arms and legs were occupied and wouldn't get in the way. "-and don't move." Willow's position, helplessly stuck on her back, her limbs caught in a rolled-up knot, made her very anxious and excited. The lips of her pussy kept throbbing, quivering, releasing their sweetness onto the insides of her thighs and, now, her tummy.

Buffy stood up and went to retrieve the Maxim that had landed on the carpet, just a few steps away. She picked it up and held it in both hands, reading the open page, then flipping back to the cover, and then flipping through it in mocking indifference. "So this is the smut you've been looking at while you touch yourself?" A quick glance back at Willow, whose legs had slipped down a fair amount. "Hey!" Buffy's sharp voice warned. "You get those legs back up, and you keep them there, or you'll be in even more trouble!" Willow straightened up quickly. "And stay still and quiet!" Buffy turned around, stuck out her hips like a stern woman, and continued to survey the pages of the magazine.

High above the two girls, a ceiling fan and a few rows of fluorescent lights furnished the room with its dim, soft, nonjudgmental personality. The smell of books was relaxing (almost soporific) to Willow, but the sound of Buffy's footsteps striding back and forth alerted her to oncoming activity. Where she lay in a confused ball of arrested pleasure on the carpet, she could feel that her red hair was mussed up casually underneath her shoulders, and she decided to turn her head to let it fall off her shoulder. But Buffy bent down and put her hand to Willow's forehead, stopping her, and combed two fingers along the roots of her hair. "What are you doing, Will, you naughty girl?"

Willow gave her a teary-eyed gaze. "Just fi- fixing my hair." Her eyes formed a peculiar expression, a blend of sheer pain and ecstasy and mischief, that made Buffy grin and then scrunch her face up in fury.

"Oh yeah? You think that's wise?" Buffy stood up, rolled up the copy of Maxim, and stepped back like a tennis expert to a deliver a hard, controlled, precise back-stroke to Willow's up-turned bottom. She squeaked and writhed slightly on the carpet. Buffy turned her wrist and gave that bottom, creamy and round as it was, as many more spanks as it would take to turn completely pink. "You (spank) are trying (spank) to fix (spank) your hair (spank) while you're supposed (spank) to be staying (spank) completely still!" Willow's hands were nervously twitching while she held up her legs, so blissful and excited. As Buffy whacked away with the magazine, her hands were moving slowly down her thighs, toward her pussy.

She took a gulp of air. The strokes, hot and sharp from the heavy magazine paper, kept coming. The closer her fingers crept, the more they would be painfully slapped by the spanks meant for her bottom. "Oh, Buffy! I need to g-get off. No!" she moaned breathlessly.

Buffy stopped, her hand pulled back behind her. Willow winced, expecting another one, but nothing happened. She turned her head again, and gave Buffy the same pained, teary-eyed face that had earned her the last salvo. Buffy angled her head quizzically and asked, "Oh, really?" She reached down with her free hand and picked up the pink vibrator that Willow had thrown. "Like with this?"

Willow's eyes widened. What had she done? What was Buffy going to do? Break it? Spank her with it? She was shocked and stupefied, still not entirely at terms with her friend even knowing she'd brought one, let alone being held down and put into awkward positions and spanked because she'd started using it. What would Buffy do with it? This could be bad. "Uh—"

"Do I need to help you use this?" Buffy said, with a haughty and very graceful accent on the word "I." She twirled the vibrator in her fingers, again admiring the soft and delicate beauty (especially when excited and held down) of Willow's body. Then, she got down on her knees again and crept closer to Will, who heard the sexy rustle of a body next to hers.

When the vibrator touched her skin, even just idly and gently, Willow was startled by its coldness and visibly quaked. "Oh, c'mon," Buffy whispered with a chuckle, "it's okay. It'll feel nice. I promise." Both girls let out a soft, easy laugh, and the air conditioner continued to work, in a comfortable and simple hum around them.


End file.
